There was a mournful, empty feeling in the Wembley High Road branch of Wilko that closed its doors for the last time on Thursday. It was one of 68 stores that the hardware and homeware retailer shut last week, with the final 37 of what was until last month a 400-strong empire closing on Sunday.
With prices cut throughout the day, from 40% to 90% reductions, by 3pm the Wembley shop looked like a homage to a Soviet-era supermarket, the shelves all but bare, save for a few cans of hedgehog feed going at the bargain rate of 13p – Wilko also sells pet food, even if hedgehogs aren’t usually pets.
On whiteboards and noticeboards customers had scrawled emotional farewells: “So sad to see you go,” read one. “The very last of our friendly helpful stores.”
Local resident Christopher Mullan had been coming to the shop since the day it opened, 25 years ago. “I know all the staff,” he said. “It’s got a homely feel about it.
“I come here about three or four times a week. I get dog food, household stuff, stuff for my neighbours, the things you can’t get anywhere else. And it was cheap as well. It’s heartbreaking.”
Staff member and team leader Myesha Maynard nodded in agreement. “This was my second home,” she said. “It was full of diversity of ethnicity and age and we all embraced each other. I feel very sad.”
She had worked at Wilko for 17 years, almost half her life. The average workspan of Wilko employees nationwide was 11 years, which, as acting assistant manager Sital Patel, a veteran of 10 years, points out, is a long time in the high staff-turnover retail industry.
Founded in 1930 in Leicester by James Wilkinson, Wilkinson Cash Stores evolved into Wilkinson Hardware Stores and then into Wilko, with branches spread out across the nation. After the closure of Woolworths in 2009, it had claim to be the most popular general store.
But over the last decade the Wilkinson family took out £77m in dividends from the company. The staff in Wembley were in agreement that poor management was to blame for the chain’s demise, though they suggested a misguided strategy rather than personal enrichment was the issue.
“We catered for everyone but we started to cater too much to the upmarket clientele,” says Patel. “The comparison was with John Lewis, and we’re not John Lewis.”
Not even John Lewis is certain that it’s John Lewis any more, with the once go-to store for the middle classes struggling to staunch losses, and its chief executive last week announcing she would depart at the end of her five-year term.
That news was symptomatic of the bleak mood in British high streets, where a combination of online shopping and the after-effects of the pandemic have left shops battling to attract customers back. Throw in stories of rampaging shoplifting gangs, the rise of Black Friday-style bargain hunting, and retail is undergoing a full-blown existential crisis.
The signs of that crunch are clearly evident on Wembley High Road, where pound shops and charity shops dominate.
“It used to be a great high road,” says Mullan, “but now all there are are second-hand and Poundland-type shops.”
In fact Poundland will be taking over 71 of the vacated Wilko shops, including the one in Wembley, moving from its current position further along the high road. Directly opposite the soon-to-be new Poundland is Sam Pound Stores, and several other “multi-choice” bargain shops are within a couple of minutes’ walk.
“I don’t think we need another Poundland,” says Pam Sukhu, making her final visit to Wilko. “There are a lot of those kinds of stores. I think there should be something a bit more prestigious.”
One problem is the growing consumer distance between ideals and habits. Almost everyone says they would like a friendly community experience with real human interaction and support, but as independent book shops know, even the most conscientious customers are prone to click on Amazon for a cheaper alternative that arrives at your door.
In this sense the closure of Wilko is of more significance than most retail shutdowns. It prided itself on its community reach, catering to a range of consumers across the class and demographic spectrum, and it nurtured well-trained and well-motivated staff who took an active interest in their customers.
“We’re getting customers coming to us crying,” said Maynard. “Some have brought gifts for us. We were part of their lives. Some of them were elderly and had no one to talk to, and this was their little refuge, where people would listen and have a conversation. You don’t get that nowadays in retail companies.”
